If You Go Beneath
by EllieShelly
Summary: Starts at the beginning of "Help Me." There's a secondary collapse and Cuddy is trapped underneath. Can House save her in time?
1. Chapter 1

House and Cuddy turned up at the accident site, watching the unbridled chaos with horror. People were milling around, clutching their bruised, battered and broken body parts, moaning in pain.

A crane collapse was a disaster, plain and simple. There was no good side to this. There were over a hundred people working on the site and now there were probably close to a hundred injured or dead.

Cuddy's eyes were wide as she surveyed the carnage. She was the Dean of the best hospital in New Jersey, and she was running this. There was a basic plan of action set up by the fire department but she was the one ultimately in charge. And she had no idea where to start.

"Ma'am?" The fire chief tapped Cuddy's shoulder gently. "What should we do?"

Cuddy shook her head, "just...give me a minute."

"We don't have a minute," the chief urged, shouting over the noise of the emergency choppers and ambulances.

"Okay," Cuddy breathed, "how many search quadrants are there?"

"Twelve," the chief answered, shifting them out of the way so a gurney could manoveure through. There was a middle-aged man lying on there, clutching his exposed skull. Cuddy grimaced, realising injuries like that were absolutely everywhere.

"Twelve," she repeated, processing. "And how many doctors?"

"Altogether there are twenty four," the chief relayed.

"Right, so two doctors per quadrant," Cuddy decided, as that was logical. "I don't care how you divide them up for now, just get them to where they should be." She whipped round and searched the area with her eyes. "House!" She shouted, watching him park his bike.

He limped over slowly, much to Cuddy's annoyance. She needed him to be fast, though of course the fact that he wasn't wasn't his fault.

"It's a mess, huh?" He stated the obvious.

"Yes. A big mess," she nodded, too preoccupied to care about any irritating comments he was going to throw at her.

"I want you here, in quadrant two," she instructed. Quadrant two was where they were standing so it wasn't far to walk and most of the damage was above ground, so there was no bending or crawling hopefully.

"Okay," House nodded, looking bored already. She knew he'd be bored, this was run-of-the-mill trauma so there was no reason for him to interested.

He liked puzzles that were completely jumbled, not once that were slightly jiggled but ultimately finished.

"I'll be in quadrant ten," she made a split second decision. Quadrant ten was still relatively close to the ambulance point but was also the place that bore the brunt of the crane. The biggest problems would most likely be there, so logically that's where Cuddy should be.

"Have fun," House told her, switching his cane from side to side, searching the sea of mutilated bodies for someone to take an interest in.

Cuddy took a stethoscope from a passing ambulance. She also took a few rolls of gauze and bandages and shoved them in her deep pockets, just in case there was some emergency triage on the way - and judging by the state of the accident site there probably would be.

Skittering across a pile of rubble, she coughed through a cloud of dust and found herself standing beside the crane, shouting and screaming coming from all angles. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to a nearby accident operator.

"What are the main problems here?" She shouted, ducking to avoid a chunk of plaster as it was chipped off a broken wall.

"Where should I start?" He said, smiling weakly, at awe by the situation. He was young, and looked innocent... To Cuddy it looked like he hadn't been doing this job all that long. Poor guy, what a site to start with.

"Where are the criticals from this area?" She was more specific, hoping to make it easier for him, and by default, for her.

"Over there," he waved non-committedly. "They're, uh, kind of everywhere."

First mistake. "Okay, you need to organise them," Cuddy ordered. "I'll be back," she promised, making her way closer to the immediate damage.

"Hey!" Someone shouted from outside an narrow opening. "Are you a doctor?"

"Yes!" She shouted back, rushing over, hoping to be of some definite help. "What's the problem?"

"There's a guy stuck in there," he rasped. "And we can't get him out. He's hurt, bleeding. We need a doctor to examine him."

Cuddy frowned. "In there?"

"Yes," the attendant told her. "Can you do it?"

Cuddy internally debated. On one hand, it was impossibly dangerous and she wasn't sure about risking it... On the other hand, finding another doctor who was willing to climb into the potential death trap would take time this guy most likely didn't have, and anyway, she was the boss, and chickening out was not something she planned on doing.

"Yes," she nodded vigorously. "I can do it."

"He's about four metres in, give or take," he explained. "There is a collapse team member there already, and he'll stay. You'll need to be in and out as quickly as you can, as we don't know how stable the area is, but our guess is not very."

"Of course," she nodded, strapping the flashlight to her head. "In, out. Got it."

"Good luck," he warned, helping her through the opening.

The crawl space was tiny and cramped, with rubble and pieces of gravel falling off and onto her with every move she made. The flashlight made only a tiny pinprick of light on the wall. Who knew four metres could feel so long?

After one more push, the tunnel widened out and she saw one man lying on the floor, covered in blood and another in a collapse team uniform, looking nervous. "I'm the doctor," she said, surprised at how raspy her voice sounded. She assumed it was from the thick air.

"Thank god," the team member sighed. "He's been out for two minutes now."

Cuddy took her small flashlight from her top pocket and shined it on his pupils. "Equal, round and reactive," she smiled. "That's good."

Suddenly, there was a shake, and some larger chunks of rubble fell. Cuddy felt her chest tighten. "We should get out," she told the collapse member. "_Now._"

"We could try and move him," he suggested. "Is that safe?"

"Safer than staying here," Cuddy murmured, as the structure shook again. "Lets do it."

Gently, the two of them shifted the young man a few inches. Then there was a crack, a bang, and then the whole roof collapsed on top of all the three of them.

.

House flicked his small light into the young woman's eyes. "You need a bandage," he told her. "There," he pointed to an ambulance, and sent her on her way.

God, he was bored. Why Cuddy needed a cripple here he would never know. He rubbed his aching temples, and massaged his leg, easing the cramped muscle.

He wasn't really paying attention to what was happening until he heard a huge crash in the background. And then there was screaming and shouting and: "Major secondary collapse in quadrant ten!"

House stopped. _Hold up, quadrant ten? Wasn't that where..._

Cuddy. Cuddy was there, she was in quadrant ten. There'd been another major collapse, and she was there.

She could be underneath that, trapped. House grabbed his cane and took off as fast as he could, hopping and shuffling and skidding, any way to get to quadrant ten faster.

It was carnage, chaos, destruction. It was clouds of dust and rubble and gravel and glass... It was blood. It was more mangled bodies, more injuries.

House moved over to a panicked looking collapse team member. "Are there people in there?" He bellowed, scaring the poor thing to death.

"What?" The young man quivered, obviously disturbed by the sight.

"Are there people in there?" House repeated. "Come on!"

"Uh..." The man was breathing fast, hyperventilating, but House didn't care. He just wanted his answer... He needed his answer.

"Uh... There was a man. And a member... Oh, and a doctor!" He forced out. "Oh my god..."

"What did the doctor look like?" House pressed, practically screaming at the man.

"Brown hair..." He said scaredly. "I'm sorry, I didn't see anything else..."

House knew there were two doctors available in each quadrant so far. And then, he saw one rush over. "I'm the quad ten doc!" He shouted. "Where am I needed first?"

This guy was man. He was not Cuddy... Which could only mean one thing.

"Cuddy!" House yelled, shouted, hollered. "Cuddy!"

She was buried under that rubble, god knows what had happened... All House knew for sure was one thing.

He was getting her out of there, alive.

* * *

A/N: So... What do you think? Do I go on? Review me! xx


	2. Chapter 2

Cuddy's eyes opened slowly, as if she were waking up from a particularly good nights sleep. There was darkness surrounding her and as her eyelids fluttered open she was just met with more darkness. Blinking furiously, she tried to see clearer.

She knew it wasn't her sight, she could see shadows from snippets of light from somewhere above. It was that she couldn't make out any shapes, or see anything clear. Wracking her brain, she tried to ascertain what happened.

She remembered... What did she remember? Hmm... Accident site. Quad ten. Person injured. Roof falling... It was then that Cuddy realised just where she was. She was trapped in the darkness under god knows how many tonnes of rubble, unable to move.

It was then that all her senses suddenly kicked in. Suddenly she could hear the deafening banging from above, she could feel the rubble chips landing on her head. She also realised that she couldn't move. Carefully, she tried to shift her arm, but not only did a sharp shooting pain go through it, she could only move it an inch before it got stuck again. She tried again with her legs. No pain, thank god, but still trapped.

A wave of nausea hit her just as a large shard of concrete fell of the low ceiling and onto her head. She could feel a monster headache brewing at the back of her skull, threatening to turn into something large and painful. Concussion? She thought so.

She opened her mouth to speak, and wasn't surprised to find it dry. The small area she was currently trapped in was small and full of collapse dust, something that was not conducive to a properly functioning voice box.

"He-h-hello?" She stammered, shaking her head the merest bit, but stopping with a groan when it killed. "Hello?" She mumbled, but slightly clearer. "Can anyone hear me?"

She could hear frantic, although muffled, shouting from above her, but it was evident that they couldn't hear her. There was drilling, and sawing, and shouting, and...was that House?

"Cuddy?" She heard through the jumble of other noises. "Cuddy? Can you hear me?"

"Yes," she croaked, voice heavy again. "Yes, I can hear you," she mumbled, her eyes growing heavy. Swirling black was slowly invading her peripheral vision. It was accompanied by a smear of red. Cuddy attempted to lift an arm to her - she assumed - bleeding forehead, but she couldn't. She was still stuck, and now she was bleeding.

Within seconds her eyes had filled with tears. _No, _she told herself firmly. _No, you are not this person. You are good in a crisis... Scratch that, _great _in a crisis. _

She wasn't going to be some other collapse victim, scared and helpless. She was a doctor, she knew what she was doing. "House!" She called, pleased at the volume. "House!"

"Cuddy?" She heard someone say with...relief? Then, she felt a small shower of gravel chips land on her, then a torch beam was shone through. "Cuddy?" House asked, peering into the small hole he'd made.

"Hi," she muttered weakly.

"You okay?" He asked, testing how far down she was by stretching his arm in. Too far to reach.

"Yeah," she said confidently.

"You're bleeding," he observed, shining the pinprick of light onto her forehead. "Quite a lot. Can you put pressure on it?"

Cuddy tried once more to move her arms. Nada. "I'm - "

"Stuck." He finished for her.

There was a moment of silence while House debated how to proceed. "I'm going to get the collapse team," he said gruffly, beginning to move his head away from the opening.

Cuddy panicked. "House!" She called out, fearful. "Don't leave," she begged, eyes shining. "Don't leave me."

Had she been higher up she would have seen the genuine anguish in his eyes. "Cuddy..." He reasoned. "You're buried up to your neck in rubble, your head is bleeding and god knows how many other injuries you have, and..." He peered in again, "I don't see any sign of the others."

Others? Then Cuddy remembered, the person who'd had her in there in the first place and the collapse team man. She glanced fearfully around the small space. No one. "Oh my god," she breathed. "They're buried underneath!"

"Appears so," House agreed, seeming unperturbed. "At least you're not," he elaborated truthfully.

"If we don't get them out soon, they'll have _no _chance," she told him in her 'I-am-your-boss-do-what-I-say' voice.

"So... I _should _go and get the collapse team?" He confirmed irritatingly.

"Don't play the fool," Cuddy snapped. "There are two men trapped here."

"And you," he pointed out. "You're trapped too."

"I can breathe," she alternated.

"I'll be back in a minute," House told her, his voice tailing off at the end as he left.

Cuddy eyes filled with tears again. She _knew _he had to go, to save those men, to save _her. _But still... She didn't want him to go.

She didn't want to be alone.

Focusing on her breathing to keep calm, Cuddy tried to think of things to take her mind of what was happening. Lucas, the wedding... _No! _Her brain shrieked_, That will not calm you down. _

At that moment, she thought about if Lucas was there... And she was glad he wasn't. Who she wanted was House. If she was going to be in a dire situation like this one she trusted House more than anyone to save her.

"Cuddy?" His soft voice floated down to her, shaking her out of her reverie.

"Yes?" She turned to look upward toward him, shaking a few of the tears that had been threatening to overspill loose.

"Here's the head of the collapse team," he told her, then stepped out the way so a young man could take his place.

"Dr Cuddy," the man shouted down. "My name is Ben Power. I'm going to get you out of there." He said all this slowly, enunciating each syllable as if he was talking to a child. She may be incased in broken wall and trapped three metres beneath the surface, but that didn't make her an idiot.

Cuddy frowned. "Good," she shouted up. "I have a contusion on my forehead but it just seems superficial and I am assuming that my shoulder is dislocated. I can't ascertain anything else at the present moment," she replied eloquently, hoping he'd the message.

She could hear House chuckle. "Stop being a smart ass Cuddy," he called down.

"Never," she called back, smiling. Even here, even now, they still had their banter.

"Right," Ben interrupted, clearing his throat, "we need to get you out as soon as possible, to avoid serious injury and have minimal loss of life."

"What do we do?" Cuddy said confidently, hoping that her voice wasn't shaking as she felt it was.

"We are going to try and remove some of this structure," he gestured to the make shift roof that was over her, "then we'll send someone down to get you out."

"Sounds like a plan," Cuddy murmured, glancing nervously at the roof. They were going to try and remove it... "Are you sure this is the only viable option?" She checked, visibly frightened.

"It'll be okay, Cuddy," House soothed.

"How do _you _know?" She challenged.

"Because I know everything," he said with finality. "Now let them focus on getting you out."

"Okay," she breathed, then repeated it louder, trusting House's words. She practically said them to Wilson last year: _He's always cold, he's always an ass, but he's very rarely just wrong. _

The drilling started, sparks flying down from the cuts they were making in the roof. There were scary cracks and bangs every second and Cuddy could feel her heart rate increase. What if it fell? What if... So many what ifs... The reality of where she was and what was happening hadn't fully sunk in.

She couldn't quite comprehend that in the space of fifteen minutes - or so, she didn't really have a clue how long it had been - she'd ended up in this position.

"Cuddy," House called, "stop obsessing."

She chuckled lightly to herself at his uncanny ability to know exactly what she was thinking. Call it his sixth sense.

"Okay," she promised, just as large chunk fell beside her, narrowly missing her head. She sucked in a breath.

"Oi!" House yelled, "we've got a person down there. Be careful."

His last words were drowned out by a huge crack from above. The drilling stopped, the shouting stopped, the chatter stopped. Everyone was intensely focused on that one crack... It was one of those moments that go by in slow motion.

Those first little chips take weeks to fall... And the large chunk that dislodges everything around you, making you slide into depths that you didn't even know where there... That bit, the biggest bit, takes months to fall.

And then you're screaming and crying as your body becomes free, twisting in ways that a body should _never _be twisted. Oh yeah, you're shoulder's dislocated. If it wasn't before, it was now. You're aware of House shouting your name. Of you shouting _Help me! Help me! _

But they can't. You're gone before anything can be done, into the deep black abyss that is the ground. And the last thing you hear is your name: _Cuddy! _

Shouted in despair, in anguish. In love, in hate... In everything in between.

And then there's nothing but silence.


	3. Chapter 3

It was silent for one, single split second after the collapse. Just one split second, and then everything erupted into more chaos.

People knew nothing about what to do, so they did everything. "Over here!" Everyone was shouting to everyone, so people were rushing around in circles not knowing where to go.

House watched the scene with shock. _This _was how they handled a crisis. "Hey!" He shouted, grabbing the arm of a passing attendant. "You need to make a _plan. _Not run around like bloody headless _chickens?_" He shouted vehemently, clutching the bicep so tightly he was sure he was cutting off blood circulation.

"We...I... I don't know what to do!" The man protested, eyes shining with fear.

"Useless!" House shouted, limp running as fast as he could to someone giving orders. "Hey, moron!" The man turned, looking pissed off. "What the _hell _are you doing?"

"Saving lives," he snapped, motioning for someone, somewhere to bring something over. House couldn't care less.

"You're going to _lose _lives if you don't _do _something!" He shouted in the man's face, causing himself to get pushed back roughly.

"We're running this," he told House adamantly. "If we need you, then we'll ask for you. So, for the time being, I'm going to have to ask you to _back off, sir._" He ended with sarcastically.

House had kept his fists clenched by his side, but now he grabbed the insufferable bastard up by his lapels, pinning him to a nearly shattered wall. "Listen, you _idiot, _you are going to get them out, and you are going to do it quickly, or so help me god, I will kick your ass so hard you won't sit down _ever_ again, for as long as you live, which won't be long as I will _personally_ kill you." He dropped the man roughly, but kept his steely gaze trained on the other's eyes. "Are we clear?" He said slowly, but venomously.

"Y-yes sir," he stuttered. "Of course."

"Now," House continued steely, "what are you going to do?"

"Tom!" The kid shouted, still watching House. "Here!" He shouted, beckoning a confident looking guy over.

"Yeah?" He panted, and House noted his heavy breathing and dust covered face. At least this guy was _maybe _trying to help.

"This guy," he motioned to House with his head, "says what's our plan?"

"Sir," he panted incredulously at House, "our plan is to get those people _out. Whatever _it takes."

_Thank god. _"How can I help?" House asked, switching to being helpful. All he wanted was to get Cuddy out safely.

"Are you personally involved?" Tom asked, shouted actually, over the noise of the chopper.

"No," House shook his head adamantly.

"Sure seems like it," Tom muttered, but didn't push the matter. "Okay, we need to ascertain about how far down they are before we do anything."

"And how do we do that?" House demanded.

"We're going to try and move some of the debris so we can sneak a camera down there," he relayed hurriedly, anxious to get to work. "And then we'll try and get an image and assess the damage."

He was going to ask what kind of damage they thought they might find, but that would be a waste as he knew the answer. He knew what they might find, and he most certainly didn't want to think about it.

"How can I help?" He repeated, wringing his hands.

"Just wait, for now," Tom instructed. "When we get a clearer idea of what's happened we'll need your help."

House nodded but followed them all the same, just wanting to be near enough to be in the loop of what was happening. He knew how bad this was, he knew that this was no joke... And that there was a very real possibility of Cuddy coming out of there in a body bag.

He felt the bile rise up his throat just thinking about that. He told himself not to, he told himself that he needed to be calm and rational... But once the thought was in his head how could he just ignore it?

He had to tell her, he had to convince her that Lucas was a mistake and that although it may seem crazy she could be happy with him. She _could _be happy with him, of that he was sure. And he needed to tell her that, for him and for her - and to prove Wilson wrong.

So he stood and watched, still and jittery all at the same time. They did seem to have some sort of idea of what they were doing which was assuring, but they then began to chip away at jumbled shards of rock House felt that familiar feeling of panic set in.

They'd had the secondary collapse, and now a third collapse... What promise was there that there wouldn't be a fourth? And who's to say what damage had been done?

As the collapse team continued whittling their way cautiously through, House played the waiting game, praying to find her alive.

.

Cuddy heard the man stirring before she saw him. She heard the spluttering, the 'I can't breathe' sounds that she'd heard so many times before. Sitting up, she winced and moaned, feeling pain flare up at every part of her body.

But he - either the collapse team member or the originally injured sick guy - needed her more than she needed herself. "I'm here," she whispered, dragging herself through the excruciating pain over to him. "Ssh," she soothed, in her best mother voice, "ssh..."

He was sputtering still, so using her one good arm - the other was out - she checked his throat for obstructions. None. "I think you swallowed some dust and fragments," she told him, cradling his head in her lap. The space they'd now managed to slide into was larger, more open, though minus any natural light.

"It's a miracle you're alive," she told him, stroking his forehead, which was covered in tiny cuts, like she assumed hers was.

He was crying, he was no more than a kid. She saw the letters 'coll' on his lapel. He was from the collapse team, so where was the... She glanced around where they'd landed. There was no one else, alive or not.

But... In the darkness, she thought she saw an arm. "I'll be back," she whispered, and crawled away, knees shooting pain but her ignoring it. She arrived there and grabbed the hand. The rest of the boy it was still attached to was buried. She was about to try and dig him out when her fingers were settled on his pulse point.

No pulse.

She roughly dropped the dead man's arm, tears welling up. She was stuck in an underground cave, under - again - god knows how may tonnes of rubble with a crying injured kid, a dead body, a severely dislocated shoulder and whatever other injuries she'd acquired.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

.

"We're through!" A shout echoed through the site, piquing the attention of everyone who'd been praying for a safe recovery. Even though that road was far from over this was a breakthrough - both metaphorical and literal.

House had been perched on a fallen lump of concrete, massaging his tightly cramped leg. Stress made it worse, and this was about as much stress as you could be under.

It was life's cosmic joke. They'd spent all their time chasing each other, running in circles, pushing and pulling. And now that House was ready and willing, and he knew that underneath it all Cuddy was too - _just _before he was going to tell her - she gets trapped under a building.

Pretty unfunny if you ask me.

As soon as House heard the call, he leapt up. He rushed over and joined them, shoving a few smaller people out of the way to get a better look. He could see a hole in the concrete about ten centimetres in diameter which went all the way down until they'd made it out of the concrete, and into a space.

A space which hopefully contained Cuddy.

"Is anyone down there?" House demanded, jerking Tom's shoulder back so he had to listen to him.

"We don't know," Tom exasperated. "We're about to find out."

House waited back as patiently as he could muster, secretly terrified as it sounded like no one had reacted to the drill. And a drill when you're trapped under concrete is something that you react to.

They threaded the camera through the opening, everyone waiting with bated breath. There was a moment before the picture came up, and then there it was, in all it's fuzzy glory. House craned his neck to see, but of course collapse members eager for a piece of the action jumped in front. House brushed them aside with his pinky finger.

"Out of my way," he spat gruffly, and the collection of now frightened faces parted like the red sea. "Is there anything?" He asked, taking his rightful place right beside Tom.

"It's not clear yet..." Tom murmured, turning the camera for a better vantage point. "I think - "

"What? What do you think?" House jumped in impatiently, peering intently at the screen.

"I think I see someone," Tom finished, and House thought that he could also make out a human-shaped shadow in the corner.

"Are they moving?" House asked, tentatively.

"Um... Yes!" Tom said thankfully, grinning. "There is movement!" He concluded, a ripple of achievement went through the onlookers.

"House?" A soft voice said, and it took them a moment to realise that it was emitting from the computer. "House, is that you?" A tearful voice asked shakily.

"Cuddy." House breathed a deep sigh of the utmost relief. "Cuddy."

"Yeah, saying my name over and over is going to help," she replied snarkily, crawling closer to the small camera. When her face came into view there was a collective wince among the watchers, House especially.

"You look like hell," he stated, now reassured that she was alive and kicking he'd reverted back to his always blunt self.

"You too," she snapped. She did look awful, her eyes were sunken and sallow and there was a gaping gash on her forehead which was trickling blood rapidly. There were a multitude of smaller cuts and bruises dotted all over her face, and House could see and painfully twisted shoulder.

"Where does it hurt?" He asked, being Dr House.

"Everywhere," was her snide remark. "I was crushed by a building. Twice."

"No need to be dramatic," House chided, but he said it with a soft edge to his voice.

"Because melodrama is exactly what is needed right now," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Ma'am?" Tom interrupted, after having watched the exchange between the two. "Ma'am, is there anyone else with you?"

"The collapse team member," she answered, and then House watched painfully as her eyes filled with tears, "the other man didn't make it," she finished softly.

Tom placed his head in his large hands and sighed. "Shit," he muttered. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she told him softly, but firmly. "He's gone."

"But you," House jumped in, "how are you?"

"Okay," she said tightly, giving a weak smile. "Shoulder's a little sore and I've got a bitch of a headache, but otherwise, I'm fine."

"And George?" Tom persisted, revealing his name.

"George," Cuddy said thoughtfully, glancing back at him. "George is...scared. And in pain. But alive."

"Good," Tom mumbled, with a slightly renewed sense of promise. "Ma'am, we're going to get you out as quickly and as efficiently as we can."

"I'll be here," she nodded, shuffling close to the camera.

Tom gave her one last fleeting look before leaving, briefing the team on their next moves.

"House," Cuddy whispered, looking straight at him, "don't go."

"I won't," he replied immediately. "I'm staying here."

"Thank you," she whispered again, and House winced as he saw the tears escape and slip down her bruised cheeks.

"Hey, don't cry," he soothed, "where's kick ass Cuddy, always good in a crisis?"

"She took a break," Cuddy sniffed, wiping her eyes. "And now you're stuck with hysterical Lisa."

"Do you want me to call Lucas?" He asked, although it pained him to do so.

"No," she answered quickly, much to House's relief. "No. Call Marina and check on Rachel, but no. Not Lucas."

"Sure," House smiled, happy with her reaction. "Anyone else you want to call?"

"No," Cuddy shook her head. "House... I want you. I'm scared and in pain and alone... And I trust you." She wept, and House wanted nothing more than to hold her and help her, but he couldn't, because she was buried under tonnes of rubble.

"I'm here," he promised, placing a hand on the screen. "And you can trust me, not going anywhere."

She put her own battered hand up so it was palm to palm with his. "Good. I need you, House," she admitted, no matter how embarrassing it felt. Now was not the time for petty quarrels.

"And I'm at your service," he bowed. "Now, lets get you out of there." He decided.

They sat with him soothing her, hands together on the screen, awaiting their next move.


	4. Chapter 4

"How do you feel?" House asked for what must've been the _billionth _time since they'd been sitting there. Every other sentence out of his mouth was something to do with her wellbeing, which was sweet, sure, but wasn't doing too well to keep her mind off the situation.

"Hmm..." Cuddy pondered. "I think I'm about to stroke out... Or have an aneurysm... Or a heart attack..."

"Don't joke," House chastised. "That's my job."

"But since you're doing the overly concerned serious thing that I'd normally do, I thought I'd do what you normally do," Cuddy smirked, her sentence a bit of a tongue twister.

"Watch your pretty mouth or I'll turn the monitor off," House warned.

"You wouldn't," Cuddy challenged. "You're too worried about me."

House debated whether to turn it off just to spite her, but this wasn't some jokey situation like they were trying to make it. And turning it off would leave her injured in the dark.

Not worth it.

"You believe what you want," House said gruffly, refusing to admit it.

"I will, and I'll enjoy it," she said stubbornly. House shook his head, and then leapt forward as he saw her grab her head.

"What is it?" He demanded, touching the screen lightly, wishing he could check for himself.

"Nothing," she stammered, wincing. "Just a little sore."

"Crane collapses will do that to a brain," House told her snidely, successfully masking his worry. He didn't want her to think he actually cared, or anything crazy like that. The problem was, that he did care. Very much so.

"Stop with the snarkiness," Cuddy groaned. "I'm not in the mood."

"Big surprise there," House muttered under his breath.

There was a moment of awkward silence. House looked up to Cuddy, who was staring apprehensively at the young man's head in her lap. "He doesn't look so good," she murmured, lifting his eyelids to check his pupils. "His pupils don't seem to be responsive."

"It's hard for things to responsive when there's nothing for them to respond to," House told her, straining to get a better look. "What are you thinking?"

"Cerebral haemorrhage," she answered. "Right pupil looks slightly blown."

House winced. Thank god she was telling him this now, instead of her lying there with a brain bleed and some dumb-ass kid fumbling and crying for mommy. "They're working on getting you out," House relayed, glancing to where Tom was animatedly describing something to some workers.

"Well duh," Cuddy snapped. "What else would they do?"

"Don't be cranky," House chided.

"Don't be unhelpful," she countered. "House, please stop. I'm just...not up for this right now."

He knew that he had to stop, and just be there for her. He knew that, and he wanted that, but after he'd all but composed her a love sonnet and sung it from the balcony he wanted to keep a slither of the dignity he had left. "Okay, Cuddy," he said softly.

"Did you call Marina?" Cuddy asked shakily, blinking back a few scared tears. She was doing her best to keep them at bay but every now and then her shoulder jarred or her muscles cramped and she was faced with the unwelcome reminder of where she was.

"Yeah," House lied. "The kid's fine."

"You could call her Rachel," Cuddy suggested gently. She knew that was no part of her daughter's life and wouldn't want to be, but still...she'd like some recognition of more than 'kid'.

"I could, but I'm not going to," House replied, firmly. If Cuddy changed her mind about the manchild and wanted a real man, then House would be there. And if having Cuddy in his life meant tolerating Rachel for a hour a day or so, so be it. But he saw no need to pretend to be interested in the spawn if he couldn't have Cuddy.

Cuddy sighed. She couldn't see House, there was only a camera down there. She knew that she had to tell him about Lucas, about the wedding... But she couldn't. And it wasn't because she didn't want to hurt his feelings, it was because...because she didn't want it to be real. She didn't want to close off the last semblance of a proper personal relationship with House.

And she knew that felt like that. She'd known when she'd agreed to one date with Lucas (casual, close to home, separate cars, not a proper date if you think about it) and she'd known when she'd agreed to a _real _first date (movie, dinner, naked and sweaty date - though she'd skillfully avoided the latter for a few weeks) and she'd known when she'd done everything else too. Moving in, house buying... And now marriage.

Lucas was young, he wanted it all. He wanted the big white wedding, four kids, a dog and a house in the suburbs. And he wanted them to retire early and grow old together, sitting on the porch and holding hands.

No freaking way.

When he'd said that to her, Cuddy had felt the bile literally rise up her throat. Four kids? She had one who she adored already, and maybe another would be nice... But three more? Not happening. And _early retirement? _Did she _look _like the kind of woman who wanted to pack up and live in Florida and play bridge when she was fully functional?

She seamlessly managed to run a hospital, raise a daughter, keep her relationship alive and well, deal with House - and everything and everyone who came with House - not once did she bat an eyelid and think she was in over her head. For christ's sake, she'd got a twelve percent increase!

And when Lucas had told her that, only one thought had been running through her head - _House would never say that to me. _

It had popped in before she could stop it, and she'd instantly chastised herself, but the damage was done and the seed of doubt was implanted.

Lucas maybe be nice and stable, but House was for her... He challenged her, he made her feel things that she wished she could feel all the time... And they weren't even together.

And for once in her life, she knew exactly what she wanted, it was perfectly crystal clear. And yet, she was afraid to grab it, because she knew that if failed and burned everything would crash into her like a train.

She'd be alone, miserable, and House would doubly annoying. _And, _he'd have seen her naked, something which she was sure he'd use against her in some way.

"Penny for your thoughts," House's voice emitted from the device, startling her. He'd been watching her for a minute or two, and her despondent expression was starting to concern him.

"Nakedness," she answered automatically, knowing how titillating that would be for him.

House smirked. "Whatever gets you through this," he said easily, joining her in her thoughts of nakedness.

Yeah, it did help just that tiniest bit.

"House!" Tom called, breathing heavily with the hint of a smile. "We have a plan," he said happily, to both of them.

"Thank god," they said simultaneously.

"We're going to open it up," Tom explained, "and build as we go down, and add supports. Hopefully, it'll hold long enough for us to get you out. It's risky, but it's our best shot."

"You need to get him out first," Cuddy said selflessly. "I'm fine."

"You're _not _fine," House insisted. "And he might be a lost cause."

"House," Cuddy hissed, "he's a person."

"So are you," House persisted, "and you're conscious. And you're my priority here."

Cuddy smiled. "That's sweet."

"Not really," House edited hastily, "I just didn't want to go through the hassle of training a new Dean to give in to my every whim."

"You keep telling yourself that," Cuddy said, running a had through her blood-matted hair. Her temples were throbbing vehemently and she was pretty sure her shoulder was as useless as chicken at a birthday party.

"Lets get started," Tom said briskly, and before anyone had a chance to prepare there are a horrible crunching sound as the jagged metal and broken concrete was pried apart.

House watched on the monitor as Cuddy was showered by pea-sized gravel pieces. "Stay calm," he soothed, watching her eyes widened and knowing that her heart rate was rising. "It sounds bad, but it's good. All the big bits are staying up."

"Well that's a plus," she stuttered, and House could see her fiercely clenched hand.

"Seriously, this is good," House continued to shout over the giant crunching sounds. "And I think they've nearly got it!"

The sudden crashing stopped, and there was a moment of tense silence while everyone prayed for the newly bent structure to hold, Cuddy especially.

After a minute of nerve-wracking there was a collective whoop when it held. "Yay!" Cuddy smiled weakly. "I'm not going to die!"

"You're not out of the woods yet," House reminded.

"Thanks for dampening my spirits," Cuddy muttered, the darkness seeming slightly darker than before, even though she knew getting out was becoming a real possibility. She'd been stuck down there for coming up to three hours and the thought of not having the twisted ball of anxiety clenched in her belly was certainly appealing.

"It went well," Tom's voice drifted through down to her. "It's holding, and it looks steady. We're going to start working our way down to you."

"How far down am I?" Cuddy asked, glancing at the enclosed walls. There was only a small space that she was sitting in, and the poor guy had his head cradled in her lap and his very possibly broken legs all twisted and curled up beside him.

"Six, seven metres," Tom speculated, lifting his crash helmet slightly. "It's doable, Lisa. And I have a good feeling about this."

"Okay," she exhaled, her mind whirring. "I trust you."

"Good," Tom told her, then gave a clear nod to the rest of the team. "Go!"

"Now Lisa," he turned back to the camera. "It's going to be loud, and shaky. There'll be falling rocks and such, and it'll be scary. We'll probably lose contact."

At that, Cuddy's head snapped up. "I'll be alone?"

"Until they break the surface, yes," Tom confirmed. "But House'll be here for you when we get you out."

Cuddy opened her mouth to say something, but then a horrible, wailing banging started, drilling and whacking and dislodging everything.

The monitor fuzzed and spat and the erupted with snow, obscuring her view of the surface. She was all alone and the walls were literally falling down on her.

Her chest hitched and the throat constricted and she was finding it hard to breathe. _NO! DO NOT have a panic attack! _She screamed internally to herself.

"This is _so _not the time," she whispered to herself, clutching the unconscious kid for some human contact.

_You know why this happening, _her brain told her. _It's because you're a coward. _

_Shut up, _she told her brain, ignoring the part of her that said she was going crazy.

_You know what you want, who you want, and you're settling for second best. For something that won't make you happy. _

_Don't do that to yourself, _brain continued, and Lisa shut up and listened. _Make yourself happy, because right now you are sitting in this crappy situation, where you could die, and if you do then you'll have not told the man you love how you feel. _

She knew her brain was right. She knew she had to listen, to do the right thing. "Okay," she whispered, "I promise, okay? When I get out, I'll tell him, I promise!" She shouted, through the haze and blur of falling debris, over the banging and shouting and shaking structure.

"Come on," she urged. "Come on! I'm ready!" She could no longer see because of the dust, and she couldn't breathe so well, but she was okay.

She was steady. And she knew that she could do this. She was Lisa Cuddy, for christ's sake.

So she rode out the storm, for the next, most excruciatingly terrifying and adrenaline pumping half hour of her life.

Then, miraculously, gloriously, there was a crack. A tiny opening, and a pinprick of light blurred through to her. Light!

She grinned, eyes clamped shut again. But that was okay, because she knew it was there, she knew she could do this.

"Lisa?" A voice shouted, and she saw a head pressed against the small crack. There was an eye there, and it was searching the musty darkness. For her.

Oh thank the fucking lord.

"Yes!" She shouted, "oh god, yes! I'm here!"

There was a small laugh. "Good," he laughed, "that's good."

"Cuddy?"

She heard the voice echoing down the drilled tunnel, and she smiled. "Cuddy?" It called again, sounding frantic.

"Are you gonna tell him I'm alright?" She asked smugly.

"Thought I'd make him sweat," the guy joked, and Cuddy found herself enjoying it. When the risk of you being crushed decreases severely you find yourself way more open to lighthearted humour.

"CUDDY?" Came hurtling down again, and Cuddy decided to have some mercy on him.

"Put the poor guy out of his misery," she said, clutching onto the guy's outstretched arm. "He's been great," she acknowledged.

"She's fine!" He yelled. "We're getting her out!"

"Do it quickly!" House shouted gruffly, and Cuddy smiled to herself. He'd been all cool and collected the whole time, and now he was freaking out over her safety.

This was going to make keeping her promise a lot easier.

"Get him out first," she gestured to the boy in her lap. "He's been unconscious the whole time, I think he has a cranial haemorrhage."

"Actually, since you can move we're going to get you out first," he told her.

"But what about - "

"He'll be fine," he assured, his arm clutching hers. "Trust me, this will work. We got down here okay, didn't we?"

"I guess so," she attempted to shrug, then winced at her shoulder pain. "You should know that my shoulder is dislocated, so climbing will be...interesting."

"It may hurt," he told her truthfully. "This shaft is not wide enough for us to easily pull you through. There is a point where we can get you on a stretcher, but it's a few metres up."

"I'll be fine," she insisted determinedly.

He began to widen the hole, and chip by chip it became bigger and more light shone through, illuminating Cuddy's face.

He winced. "That looks bad," he nodded to the cut.

She touched it. A smudge of blood came off, too much blood when it had been bleeding for around three hours. No, now was not the time to freak out. She was about to be rescued, and tended to.

"I'll be fine," she repeated. She felt two strong arms reach out to her and grip her good arm, pulling her out of the puddle of rubble she was buried in. Slowly she slid through, moaning as her hips were scraped against the shards. Glass and gravel was poking into her, practically sticking tiny pins into her body.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "It's almost over."

Tears shining in her eyes she fought on, body aching and stinging. "It'll be over soon," she whispered, crying out, tears slipping dow her dusty cheeks as she was lifted haphazardly through the barely big enough opening.

"Good," the man soothed. "You did great, Lisa."

"Get. Me. Out." She breathed forcefully. "_Now._"

"Yes ma'am," he nodded, and together the shifted upwards.

.

House stared down the hole, peering deep inside. Where was she? She should be here now.

"Where is she?" House said, grabbing a nearby man's arm.

"Here," she moaned, and House felt a huge sigh of relief as her dusted, battered, bruised but beautiful head came into view. "I'm right here."

"What the hell did he do to you?" House asked, gently wiping against her forehead. He palm slipped down to cup her cheek, and gently swiped a tear away with his thumb. "It's going to be alright," he murmured softly, helping the team lift her out and place her on the awaiting stretcher.

He grimaced when he saw her shoulder. That was going to hurt like a bitch when it was popped back in.

He took in her body... It was kind of a disaster zone. Bruises and cuts, everywhere. Blood, everywhere.

She no doubt had to be in a lot of pain, but she was bossing everyone around like the best of them, getting affirmation that the other kid was okay.

"Shut up, Cuddy," House silenced her with a finger on her lips. "Just...stop talking."

And miraculously, she did. She looked at him with her beautiful clear grey eyes, and gripped his hand tightly. She moaned as she was lifted into the ambulance.

"Hey," House snapped at the paramedics. "Careful."

Cuddy smiled to herself. This was what is was like to have House around for you, protecting you. It was a good feeling.

"House," she muttered, her body lightening up and her IV was inserted and morphine began flowing through her veins.

"Yes?" He asked, shuffling close beside her, holding her hand.

"D-d-don't leave," she murmured, eyes drooping.

"I won't," he assured her, squeezing her hand. "I won't leave you."

_Now or never. _"I...love...you," she forced out, then her eyes drifted slowly shut.

"I love you too," House murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. He only admitted that because he was sure she was out, but he was wrong. She was awake, and she heard him.

She heard him loud and clear.


	5. Chapter 5

Cuddy groaned as she was bumped out of the ambulance and into the hospital through the ER doors, too roughly for either her or House's liking. "Hey!" House chastised gruffly, snarling at the paramedic. "Don't they teach how to not be a moron at night school?"

"House..." Cuddy mumbled, sliding the oxygen mask off her face. "Be nice," she scolded, and House looked at her incredulously.

"He's banging you every which way - and not in a good way - and you're just okay to sit by and take it? Come on Cuddy, get your Dean on."

It was funny how sweet and protective House was when she was in danger, his stream of racist, sexist and generally rude comments stopped and replaced with fierce attentiveness... But as soon as she was safe and sound in the hospital his snarky side came roaring back. Good thing Cuddy found his snarky side endearing.

"My Dean is taking a break," she told him, "and being replaced by a woman in need of _morphine._"

He grinned at her, limping along beside her quickly despite his lack of cane, and squeezed her arm. "That's my girl. Straight for the good, hard drugs."

"We make quite a pair," she said softly, allowing an IV to be inserted and a bag of fluids hung up.

"Not any more," he reminded. "A year, clean."

"Congratulations," she told him sincerely, shifting awkwardly in the C collar. "I'm not as strong as you, I guess. Give me the drugs."

"There's no shame in admitting you have a problem," he chided jokingly, pushing a syringe of morphine in her IV.

"House!" Wilson said breathlessly, rushing over and crashing into an empty gurney at the same time. "I heard that Cuddy was in another collapse?"

"Ask her yourself," House nodded down to her, and she attempted to smile.

Wilson did a double take. "_Lisa?_"

"Hi," she mumbled weakly.

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I just didn't recognise you in all that rubble and dust and... Jesus! Is that your shoulder?"

"No," House said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "it's mine. We decided to switch."

"What else is wrong?" Wilson persisted, feeling her glands and wincing at the glass fragments embed under her chin.

House knew that Wilson just meant well, but he couldn't help but feel like Wilson was moving in on his woman, even though he knew that was _ridiculous. _Still, he should be the one feeling her glands and being concerned about the glass sticking out of her face.

"I'll do it," he said melodramatically, shoving Wilson out of the way and taking over. He frowned at Cuddy's bemused expression. "Shut up."

She made a non committal noise, and shut her eyes slowly. "Hey!" House said sharply, and she opened them wide again.

"I'm awake," she murmured.

"Better stay that way," he warned. "We're going get you down for an MRI and x-rays and if all's well we'll then get you to a bed. _Then _you can sleep."

"If all goes well?" She asked as some interns began pushing the gurney out of the ER and up onto the other hospital floors.

"You might have internal bleeding, or some other injuries," he relayed, only slightly concerned that she didn't seem to know that already. "And your scapula might be broken. The dislocation is probably masking pain from a break."

"Can you call Marina?" She mumbled, the drugs making her woozy, and House knew that she would be out of it in a minute. "Get her...to...get...Rach - "

"I know," House stopped her. "Just rest now, don't try to talk."

He realised those words sounded eerily like the ones she'd said to him two years previously. "You...better be there...when I...wake up..." She tapered off.

"I will be," he promised as the doors swung shut. Then, with a heavy heart, he went off to call Marina, and by default, Lucas.

.

House was already waiting in room 214 when Lucas appeared in the doorway. After he'd left her in the MRI suite and called Lucas he'd hacked the patient files and found out which room they'd placed her in.

Of course it was one of the best rooms, private with a big bathroom and cable. Being the Dean of Medicine did include perks if you were ever hospitalised, so at least you weren't adding insult to injury by being stuck on a busy ward.

In his opinion, she should have been back from CT _at least _half an hour ago, but House did appreciate how incompetent the hospital staff could be - the fact that they were dealing with the continuous stream of patients from the accident site was clearly irrelevant.

Anyway, he'd found out her room number in about three seconds - the nurses are inept at making a secure patient network - and was now sitting anxiously in the bedside chair, hoping he didn't look as pathetically nervous as he actually was.

Then add in a distraught looking Lucas showing up - Jesus, was he crying? - and House was having a hard time staying calm and not blowing up at Lucas for being such a pathetic baby who wasn't any better than a headless chicken in a crisis.

"House," Lucas said sadly, eyes wide and drooping like an injured puppy.

_Oh, suck it up! _

"Hey Lucas," House replied evenly, looking up from the dimly lit room. "Fancy seeing you here."

Lucas chuckled, apparently he thought it was okay to laugh at a time like this. _Idiot. _

He came into full view a moment later, revealing a little Rachel clad in pink footie pajamas, rubbing her eyes sleepily and sucking eagerly on a dummy. "Is there anywhere I can put her down?"

House nodded, and pressed the nurse call button. Nurse Brenda came in calmly, with no scathing looks - House assumed she was feeling a little compassion today, considering Cuddy was currently indisposed.

"Can you get a nursery bed up here?" House asked tiredly, not bothering to even put a _little _snark into it, which alerted Brenda to just how much this was affecting him.

"Of course," she said softly, giving the two men a knowing look. "Whatever you need."

House mumbled quietly, something that sounded like "thank you."

The nurse left quickly, and Lucas smiled gratefully at House. "Thanks," he said companionably. "She's getting heavy."

House realised that he was angling for House to take a hold, but there was no way that he would. If Lucas got Cuddy, he had to deal with the spawn. Those were the rules.

Brenda bustled in a moment later, looking like she'd sprinted from the nursery to bring the baby cot up. Lucas laid Rachel carefully down, and smiled paternally as he pulled the soft cotton blanket over her small form. House shivered internally at the idea of him having that look on his face, _ever. _

Don't get him wrong, House had an odd sort of respect for kids, and their hilarious ability to just speak their minds, with little or no regard for the consequences. Made for a more interesting conversation than one with an adult.

But he wasn't prepared to deal with everything else, past the inane comments. All the drama, all the tears, all the kissing the boo-boos... Not something House was going to sign up for.

House looked up at the sound of wheels squeaking across the linoleum, signalling the return of a patient to the floor. He hoped it was Cuddy, otherwise the CT techs were going to get an abusive phone call just about now.

Fortunately, it was her, and both House and Lucas sat up straighter as she was wheeled in. The position they ended up in was rife with symbolism. Her in the middle, House on the left, Lucas on the right, and Rachel at the end of the bed in her cot, perfectly placed in no man's land.

"She'll be groggy when she wakes up," the porter told them, then left swiftly, having heard many things about House, none of which were good.

Cuddy's head was turned toward House, and her bruises and cuts looked worse now that they'd cleaned her up a bit. He was pleased to see that her shoulder looked like it was back in the joint, and she was sleeping peacefully now and House hoped that that meant she wasn't in any pain. He knew that that was unlikely, but he still hoped.

He leaned forward went he saw her eyes flutter, ignoring Lucas' confused look. "Hey," he whispered, "if you move too much you'll hurt yourself."

"Mmmph," she murmured, rustling slightly. "House..."

"It's okay," House said quickly, jumping in before Lucas could. "Just - "

"House," she coughed. "I'm okay, and listen..."

"Ssh..." House continued, hoping that she wouldn't say something that she'd regret.

"Listen!" She commanded, in her I-am-woman-hear-me-roar voice. "I'm cranky and in pain, so you better _shut up_ and listen to me. House," she blinked open her expressive eyes and stared deep into his own, "I'm making a mistake, marrying Lucas."

House saw his eyes widen in shock and horror, and was not ashamed to admit that he felt a little good about it. It was widely know that he was an ass, why not enjoy it?

He expected Lucas to say something, but he just stared on in horror, so House just coaxed her forward, hoping that she'd continue. Fortunately, she did.

"I'm trying to do the right thing, I'm trying to choose what I _should _want instead of what I actually want... And crazily, what I want is you. I shouldn't... But I do. And I can't move on with my life unless I face that." She broke off, with a few tears in her eyes. "When I was down there, I said to myself that I would tell you this and get it over with, so I don't have any regrets."

She took a deep breath. "I love you. I wish I didn't, but I can't help it."

House kept his eyes on hers for one second, locked in a gaze, not quite believing that everything he wanted to hear was coming out of her mouth. Sure, she was on heavy painkillers but House knew she wasn't just blurting it out.

She'd thought about this, and she wanted this. She wanted him. She _chose _him.

"Uh-hem," Lucas cleared his throat awkwardly.

Cuddy whipped round, wincing as she did so. "Oh... Hey Lucas."


	6. Chapter 6

The tension in the hospital room was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. House was looking bashful - albeit euphoric - and Cuddy was just looking plain panicked. Her breathing sped up and her eyes began blinking rapidly, though whether it was to stop the brewing tears or a neurological symptom House wasn't sure, something he made to rectify.

Taking his pen light out of his rubble encrusted pocket, he flicked it over her eyes. "I'm fine," she muttered, not sure how to fix this. House moved back, not wanting to intrude as she ended it between her and Lucas for good. At least, that's what he hoped she was planning to do. Otherwise she had a rather large hole to dig herself out of.

"Lisa..." Lucas said wistfully, taking her hand.

A carnal instinct came over House and he immediately wanted to deck him, just for touching her. Okay, sure, _technically _he was still the boyfriend, but since she'd just confessed her love for another man House assumed that all the conventional rules were off the table.

But, the thing with Lucas was that he was a child, really. He couldn't handle the world that Cuddy and House lived in... He just wasn't ready. House doubted sometimes whether he should even be out of the womb. Cuddy was a woman, and Lucas was still very much for girls. House, however, was a _real _man. His innocent - read: childlike - face was so...broken. House just looked at the expression and decided that along with him getting the girl - hallelujah! - he should at least try and have a _little _compassion for Lucas. So, he let the handholding continue. For now.

"Lisa..." Lucas repeated, seeming lost for words. "Why?"

"Oh..." She pressed her lips together and shook her head, eyes leaking a tear or two. "I just don't know," she whimpered.

House frowned. Backbone, woman! She _did _know, she just admitted it. She wanted House. And he knew her well enough that he could safely presume she hadn't changed her mind in the three or so minutes since she'd made the declaration. He put his thumb out and nudged her side, just gently. She winced.

House grimaced. "Sorry," he mumbled sincerely. It was supposed to be a 'you can do this' nudge, not a 'I'm trying to aggravate your broken ribs' nudge.

"It's okay," she accepted, then turned her face back to Lucas. She had to do this, now. "Lucas, it's not that you're not great, you are..." She trailed off and looked at House for reassurance. His face remained blank and impassive but he squeezed her fingers gently.

Cuddy felt empowered. That may be a small gesture for anyone else, but this was House. He didn't squeeze fingers. "You're the perfect guy," she continued, with a bit more strength in her voice. "You're everything I should want, and you're everything I need... A great dad, stable...but I can't do it. I need this. I need House," she stopped and swallowed, "and yes, I am aware of how ridiculous that sentence is."

"But..." Lucas stammered. "You...complained about him! Everyday! He made you miserable," he implored, thoroughly confused.

"I know," she smiled weakly. "He does make me miserable, and I'm sure he still will..."

House leaned in, curious where she was going with this. "But..." She took House hand awkwardly for support, "amazingly, he makes he happy. And he challenges me in a way that you can't."

Lucas let out an incredulous laugh and ducked his head. "So this is about IQ?" He asked disbelievingly.

"No," she shook her head, "just about...compatibility."

"And you think that you two are compatible?" He said angrily, getting more and more riled up. The upset and wounded Lucas was gone - for now, House was sure he'd be back in a minute - and in his place was ferocious Lucas - well, as ferocious as Lucas could be.

Of course ferocious House versus ferocious Lucas is like a lion versus a kitten, but House decided to let the scene play out before him anyway. Just let Lucas run himself into the ground, before he swooped in and kick his whining lonely butt into the figurative cold, and then had Cuddy all to himself. He'd waited twenty years for this, and he was damn well going to enjoy it.

"Yes," Cuddy said carefully, "within reason."

"You are _nothing _like him!" Lucas gestured to House, evidently not caring if House heard or not. "You're not a jerk, not a misanthrope, not an ass... You're a good person!"

House shifted awkwardly, his butt having gone to sleep from perching on the hard plastic of the hospital chair. Yeah yeah, now Lucas was on the 'he's an ass!' part of his pathetic take me back monologue and to be honest it was all a bit predictable. Next, he was gonna talk about how House was just going to screw up and hurt her.

"Lisa," he implored, grabbing her hand too tightly for House's liking, "he's just gonna screw up and hurt you."

Bingo. Word for word, even.

"You don't want to do this to yourself!" He continued fruitlessly. "I'm what's best for you, you're making a mistake! Please, don't do this..."

"Enough!" She silenced. "I'm tired and in pain and I've made my choice. It made be stupid and it may backfire on me in a way that makes me unhappy and miserable, but I don't care! Hear me, I don't care! I'm willing to take a chance... I can't live the rest of my life wondering what could have been."

"And what about me?" He begged. "Aren't you going to wonder what you could have had with me?"

Now, before, when Cuddy had first found out that Lucas had heard the conversation between her and House, she'd felt bad, and scared. She cared for him deeply and having him find out like that was not what she wanted. But her patience was wearing thin, and a persistent begging Lucas was just elevating her pain levels. She was done with this conversation, and wanted him out.

"I've seen what I could have had with you," she replied, perhaps a little more scathingly than was necessary, "and frankly, it bored me."

Lucas looked shocked. Obviously, that wasn't what he was expecting. But soon the shock was replaced with defeat, and a cold expression came over his face. He stood quietly and smoothed his coat lapel. "You two deserve each other," he sneered, then left with as much dignity as he could muster.

There was a moment of silence as Cuddy sniffed and House just processed. He looked over at Cuddy. She was trying to keep it together, but he could see the tough facade breaking. "Hey," he muttered light heartedly, stroking her hair in a surprisingly affectionate gesture. "Don't be...sad."

"I'm not," she replied sadly, wiping her eyes. "Just...it's done."

"Yeah," House agreed. "It is."

He was suddenly aware of how alone they were, and how...just how they were. Where they'd ended up in just a few short hours. Here she was, lying in the hospital bed with her shoulder strapped up in some ridiculous velcro sling, her head bandage and a face that currently looked like a connect the dots pattern made by a five year old, and had just dumped her manchild fiance for him. Oh dear god, what had he got himself into? _And _there was a child to contend with. A pink smily toddling bundle of joy, who House hadn't spent any time with since the bonding/puking episode - which he was trying to look back on fondly, but failing.

As House debating all these issues internally, Cuddy was trying not to cry. Big day - breathe in - could've died - breathe out - broke up with fiance, ended up with House...

"Kiss me."

House looked up. "What?"

"Kiss. Me."

She sighed at his befuddled expression. "I know you know how," she teased, "so do I have to ask a third time?"

House swallowed, then leaned forward. He wanted this to be different from before, when she lost Joy. That was a kiss made from loss and unhappiness and grief... This should be made from hope - and, as corny as it sounded, love. This should be a love kiss, not a need kiss.

So, as he covered her poor chapped lips with his own matching ones, he just let himself drift into it. No plan, no nothing... He just let himself enjoy. After holding the kiss for a decent amount of time he eased his mouth open and let his tongue slide out to lick her lips, and part them. Their tongues swirled together, in a kiss that definitely lived up to expectations.

He felt her hands twist and slide into his hair and pull him closer, holding her to him, breathing in the rough scent that he was emitting. Plaster and rubble mixed with eau de House was surprisingly calming. She craned her neck up so she could explore his mouth even further, not wanting to miss an inch of him.

It was _this, this _is what she'd been missing. For the last twenty years, every guy had just been missing something... And here it was. She couldn't put her finger on it, but just something about the way things fit together... She couldn't explain it, but it was good. _So _good.

To her surprise, House pulled away. He kept his arms clasped around her bruised back, holding her to him. He took a moment just to take her in, her swollen lips and flushed cheeks. A sense of pride swept through him, knowing that he'd put it there. But he looked at the cuts, the bruises, the bags under her eyes.

The poor thing must be exhausted. So, in an abnormally tender gesture, he kissed her forehead. It was slow and lingering, and Cuddy felt tears spring to her eyes. She found herself thinking that maybe, if she was lucky, things could work out for the two of them.

She smiled gratefully as he laid her smoothly back on the bed. "Goodnight," he whispered.

"Stay," she pleaded, grasping his hand.

"Of course," he promised, sinking back into the chair, a satisfied smile playing out across his lips.

And so, with his hand clasped tightly in hers, Cuddy shut her tired eyes and let sleep overwhelm her.


	7. Chapter 7

Cuddy awoke with a jerk, the hospital room looking more and more clinical and sterile by the minute, due to the approaching morning light. She could see the sun rising, the sky an explosion of pinks and oranges, through the loosely drawn hospital blinds. It was different looking at this room from the point of view of a patient. The linens looked uncomfortably starched, and felt it, and the array of scary looking medical devices along the back wall and in the corner would have scared her, had she not already know exactly what they were used for.

She attempted to push herself up, but failed miserably. Pain shot from every nerve fibre in her body, stabbing at her limbs and face, making her instantly regret moving. Tears sprung to her bruised eyes, her shoulder aching and sides throbbing, the result of three broken ribs and severely dislocated shoulder. She glanced awkwardly at the unattractive black clompy sling that was currently adorning her arm, realising what a pain in ass it was going to be, since it was on her writing arm. Just her luck to dislocate the shoulder that she used frequently.

She flexed the fingers on her good arm. Was there any chance that she could learn to be ambidextrous in the next few hours? She didn't think so. Not since she couldn't sit up without pulling all the muscles in her neck, shoulders and back. Oh joy, this was going to make for a fun couple of days.

She twisted her head the merest inch to the left, successfully not aggravating any of her multiple injuries. She looked over at the strong man snoozing on the uncomfortable chair, his broad calloused hand still entwined with hers. Normally her delicate pale hand would have looked small and engulfed compared to his, but this time both their hands were streaked with dirt and dust, with Cuddy's dotted with scratches. They looked like a horribly unlucky pair, which they were, of course. It was kind of fitting.

She attempted to wriggle her hand out of his without waking him, as he just looked _so _tired. There were prominent bags standing out from under his eyes, and they looked sunken and sallow compared to their normal bright attentiveness. Cuddy adored his eyes, she did. She'd never seen eyes like his, never so inquisitive and wondering, like they pierced your very being when he was looking at you.

_Wow, _Cuddy thought, _this morphine must be messing with my head. _

Gently twisting her fingers, she tried to loosen them from his protective grasp. Predictably, she failed. As soon as her hand moved House's eyes snapped open, and he narrowed them at her. "I think this is the one time I'd outrun you if you tried to run away," he murmured, scrubbing his free over his stubble.

"I wasn't going anywhere," she told him. "I was merely trying to regain the blood flow to my hand. That's quite a death grip you have there."

He sneered jokily at her. "Watch it, woman. You're in a vulnerable position here."

"Don't you "woman" me," she scolded lightly, her feministic side shining through. Medicine was such a boys club, and after all the "nurse" comments during her internship calling people out on "woman" nicknames had become second nature.

"You are _my _woman now," House reminded her, "so I'll woman you whenever I want to."

"If that's your view," Cuddy teased, "then maybe I won't be your woman after all."

"Ow," House faked hurt, "we've barely been together twelve hours and you're already considering leaving me?" He pressed a finger to his chin in mock-thought. "Maybe this'll be harder than I thought... Dear God, I might have to actually put some _effort _into this?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Cuddy groaned, picking up the bed control in her hand and buzzing herself into a sitting position. She peered down to the nursery cot at the end of the bed, watching Rachel's little chest rise up and down in a rhythmic pattern. "She slept through?" She asked, impressed.

"Yeah," House relayed. "She doesn't normally?" He raised an eyebrow, which thankfully Cuddy didn't see.

"Difficult phase," she told him absentmindedly. "Nightmares."

"Of what?" He inquired, curious.

"You," she said automatically, then turned to him apologetically. "Sorry," she said ashamedly.

"Something's bothering your kid and you blame me?" He asked with mock outrage.

"Something's bothering _anyone _and I blame you," she remarked, smiling at him. House couldn't help his lip twitching to smile back, she just had that effect on him.

"So Rachel's just anyone?" House quipped, backing her into a corner.

"No," Cuddy said vehemently, wanting to cuddle the little girl to not daring to wake her up when she was slumbering so peacefully. "She's not just anyone," she alternated.

"No one with the Cuddy surname is just anyone," House said sweetly, but bashfully. This was obviously hard for him.

Cuddy gave a throaty chuckle, then coughed violently. She pressed her good hand to her heaving chest and gestured to the pitcher of water which was sitting on the tray table at the end of her bed. She assumed that there was still grit residue coating the back of her throat, nothing to worry about but highly annoying and uncomfortable.

House was immediately patting her back carefully, while skillfully pouring a glass of water with the other hand. "Drink," he commanded gruffly, holding the cup to her lips while rubbing concentric circles across her back.

She accepted the drink gratefully and slurped it down hungrily, having not eaten anything for twenty four hours. The water coursed down her damaged pharynx - inhaling dust infected air for hours on end could not do good to a throat - and she merely coughed more, the drink dislodging more of the leftover debris. She stuck her tongue out at the lip of the cup, like a stubborn child would with a disliked food.

"Drink it," House said evenly, but firmly, and Cuddy knew it was just for her wellbeing - that, or House's amusement, and she guessed there was a 50/50 of it being either.

Slowly, by the time she'd finished the glass, the liquid was going down easier and her throat was feeling clearer. House was right, of course. Fortunately, Cuddy was feeling a lot better and a hell of a lot more awake by the time the glass was finished, unfortunately, the commotion had stirred her sleeping infant. Rachel was now sitting up in her too small cot, peering awkwardly at her mother. "Mama?" Rachel said confusedly, taking a pajama footed foot in each chubby hand.

"Hi baby," Cuddy cooed/coughed from her position on the bed. "Did we wake you?"

Rachel nodded vigorously, as a toddler would, and then reached out for Cuddy. However the cot was a reasonable distance - okay, twenty centimetres - from the bed, but if she tried to get to her mother and crawled out of the cot then she could easily fall through the gap and hurt herself.

Cuddy, by this point, knew her little girl quite well, and knew that within the next minute she would stand up and try and cross the threshold, no doubt hurting herself. "House!" Cuddy gestured to Rachel, "get her and bring her here!"

House limped over and picked up the girl with ease. He tenderly tucked her against his hip, and Cuddy was amazed to see her bury her sleep addled head into his broad chest, much like Cuddy had.

House smiled weakly, awkwardly enjoying the position he was in. Contrary to popular belief, House didn't hate kids. He was certainly not fond of the idea of a long term child - like one of his own - but as long as it was sporadically, kids in general, he quite liked.

Kids have no internal filter, no censor that tells them to shush when they're about to say something really inappropriate or rude. Kids say it like it is, which he quite respects. So, in short, kids don't actually bother him. Babies, however...they're a different story. Babies just cry and poop and feed - and unless you get a good view of mommy's pair while she's doing - are generally annoying and always _there. _

But Rachel was no longer a baby, she was a toddler. And House had to admit, she was pretty damn cute. She had soft downy hair and big expressive dark eyes, which were currently boring into House.

He kept the little girl's intense gaze all the while moving back to Cuddy, who's arms were outstretched. "Hi sweetie," she breathed into Rachel's hair, smelling her intoxicating baby shampoo. Rachel immediately moulded herself to Cuddy, wrapping her little arms around her neck and curling her legs up in Cuddy's lap.

"Mommy," she mumbled, burying her head deep into the curve of Cuddy's neck. It had been confusing for her last night, when her mom hadn't come home and Lucas had brought her to the strange new place, where Mommy had been sleeping and she'd had to go to sleep in a really little bed.

Rachel didn't like confusing, she liked her mom. So now being back in her comforting arms was all she wanted.

Cuddy held the little girl tight in her grasp, hating that if anything had gone wrong yesterday she wouldn't have seen her again, wouldn't have held her. Her eyes filled with tears and she just cradled Rachel closer, suffocating her a little. She knew that crying at the drop of a hat wasn't good, but yesterday had been traumatic, and she was entitled to some tears.

Rachel looked up when she heard the small sob emit from Cuddy's mouth. She frowned and sloppily tried to wipe away the tears. "Mama no cry," she said adamantly, shaking her head.

"Sorry," Cuddy smiled, kissing her nose.

House stood beside Cuddy, watching on as she hugged and kissed her daughter. He'd resented Rachel at first for taking "mommy" away - though now that him and Cuddy were technically involved referring to her as "mom" in any context was kind of wrong - but he saw now that despite that, Rachel just made Cuddy amazingly happy. House was sure that he'd hear a lot of how much she enjoyed motherhood.

"I'm going to get your discharge papers," he mumbled, watching as Cuddy tickled Rachel and she shrieked with delighted laughter. "And I'll give you two a minute."

"Sure," Cuddy said absentmindedly, not really realising what he was saying. She certainly hadn't heard the part about her being discharged.

House left the room quietly, getting the papers that would allow him to take her home, finally.

.

When House came back in, clutching the forms, Cuddy was looking far more animated and awake, and was currently letting Rachel use her like a jungle gym. "Hey," he said easily, smiling at her glowing smile.

Sure, she was tired and battered and in pain, but she had House and Rachel, and Lucas was gone, and she was going home... And she was alive. How much better could a day get?

"Discharge papers!" House announced. It was odd seeing Lisa Cuddy as the patient name, not as the signing off name. And yes, House did appreciate the irony of Cuddy having to sign on both the patient signature and administrator lines.

He'd also nipped down to her office and retrieved the spare clothes that Cuddy kept in a weekend back under her desk. As Cuddy saw him bring out the bag, she was touched that knew about, and thought to bring it.

As she gently - albeit painfully - climbed out of bed, she instructed House to turn around.

"Why?" He asked incredulously.

"Because I'm all bruised," she pouted, "and that's not the first image I want you to have of my body."

"_Fine,_" House accepted melodramatically, taking the baby from her so she could get changed. Unfortunately, most of the clothes were work clothes, so pretty well fitted. Cuddy couldn't wait to get home and change into her pajamas...loose clothes that weren't pushing on all her cuts.

"See?" She heard House say from outside the curtain. "Your mommy's being irrational. She thinks I care about her having been a knocked about, but I don't. Mommy's just crazy."

Cuddy laughed. "You love me really," she called out absentmindedly, trying to get into a shirt, but failing miserably, as one arm was completely _useless. _

There was a pause. "I do," he said sincerely.

Cuddy was stilled by his admission. "I love you too," she said quietly but clearly. She heard some rustling outside, and then House pulled open the curtain. And Cuddy care that she was standing there like an idiot with a dirty bra, bruised chest and giant velcro sling, looking on at him dreamily.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he said, then took her mouth in his. Much like last night, it was passionate and slow and knee buckling, and Cuddy honestly felt herself melting in his arms.

He pulled away after moment, earning a whimper of displeasure from Cuddy. "Get dressed," he ordered gently, "so I can take you home."

Cuddy looked at him. "Oh no House..." She shook her head. "You don't have to do that."

"I know," he said immediately. "I want to."

"But House..." She started again, but he pressed a finger to her lips.

"No buts," he shushed. "I'm taking you home, and that is that."

Cuddy leaned forward and let herself fall into his embrace, revelling in the sensation of being enveloped by _him. _"Help me?" She asked, holding up the shirt.

House smirked. "Always," he smiled, and proceeded to put it on, before taking her home with him, as he'd wanted to for the past year.


	8. Chapter 8

House flopped down on the couch, completely exhausted. He stunk of grit and dirt and sweat, and looked like he'd been dragged through a dust cloud - which, let's face it, he had been. On top of the physical frustration and pain, his thigh throbbing exceedingly painfully, there was the emotional stress as well.

Now, House was not the kind of person to put the words 'emotional' and 'stress' in the same sentence, unless that same sentence or one leading on from it happened to be mocking someone. So, it came as a great surprise to himself when those were the words that jumped to his mind to summarise the last twenty four hours.

However, that was _nothing _compared to the stress of getting Cuddy out of the hospital, into the car, and then into her house.

Dear God, it was utterly chaotic.

They left the hospital early, at around seven thirty. Well, Cuddy was discharged at seven thirty, was dressed by eight, and out the door by eight fifteen - though not without her nervous assistant doing a Starbucks run first. The poor women had obviously been trying to not look at _either _of the senior doctors in front of her - one covered in obvious cuts and bruises and the other shooting a death glare to not mention the cuts and bruises. She'd scurried off at 100mph as soon as she'd delivered the drinks.

House was grateful for the coffee delivery, though. Injured or not, Cuddy was unbearable without her caffeine fix. As soon as her skinny latte was delivered and consumed, she was in a significantly cheerier mood - even finding the energy to make a snide remark. House felt a weight lift when she did that, she evidently had her brain working properly.

Not that he was going to admit this to anyone, but he had worried - _briefly - _that her spontaneous declaration of love wasn't necessarily prepositioned by her own wants and needs, but by lumps of grit and rock falling on her head. Of course, no matter what even preceded it, the feelings were there... It was just whether she was in the right mind when she chose to share them.

Fortunately, she seemed fine. He was checking her pupils every hour, and had nicked a blood pressure machine and was going to continue checking her vitals religiously until he was satisfied that she was completely fine. Partly, it was because he cared for her - he guessed - but also, how was he supposed to show off to Lucas if she wasn't there? Well, that was the reason he gave himself. The thing was, not even he believed it.

Wilson had come down to say goodbye and check on Cuddy before they left. He raised a significant eyebrow when he saw House carrying Rachel close to his body, her little pajama-ed arms wrapped around his neck and head on his shoulder. He had no desire to deal with the spawn, but since Cuddy was practically catatonic with one arm out of use he decided to be nice. Ergo, the child was currently moulded to his body. And he had to admit that she was doing an excellent job of keeping him warm, although the constant snuffling in his ear was getting annoying.

But he knew that waking her up would result in Rachel wailing, Cuddy crying, and House having a sense of humour failure, so he suffered through, and made it out alive. Just.

Then the drive home had been stressful too. Getting Cuddy in the car had been a feat to start with. Her prescription was for heavy pain meds and a week of rest - though House had no doubt that she would end up resting for a day and then starting on the mountain of paperwork she surely had to complete. But anyway, she was tired beyond belief and very cranky, much like the baby who'd spent the night crushed in a preemie cot and the other baby who's thigh was killing him and was grumpy to start with.

You've got two technical cripples and a baby all trying to get in a car with minimum damage... And failing miserably. House was helping Cuddy, when Rachel's foot accidentally connected with his thigh. He swore _very _loudly, Cuddy turned and whacked her shoulder, burst into tears, like the baby.

House was _this _close to crying himself.

But he managed to calm down enough to put some order into things, and page Wilson.

So... One grumpy cripple, another crying cripple, wailing baby and a bemused and frightened oncologist later, everyone was belted in and relatively dry eyed. Biding goodbye to Wilson, House started the ignition and began driving out of the parking lot. Here's how _that _endeavour went:

"Turn left."

"I know."

"You missed the turn!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Okay okay, you want me to turn around?"

"Yes."

"But the real turn is coming up."

"No, you already missed it."

"No, I did not."

"You did!" She begins to cry, again.

"Okay okay, I'm turning."

She seemed satisfied with that answer, until she realised that he was lying through his teeth and had no intention of turning around at all.

"House!"

"Cuddy!"

"If you're going to _my_ house - "

"Then you take _this _turn."

Both of them stared up at the road sign which indeed was the right turn down to Cuddy's house. House looked smug, as always, while Cuddy merely huffed. She hated to be wrong, let alone wrong to House. She loved House - it felt nice to finally say that - but he was frustrating at the best of times... Especially so when Cuddy _really _needed a win.

She didn't want to sound ungrateful - she knew that she could have died, that one of the guys in the same predicament as her had - but she'd had a crazy twenty four hours.

Losing Lucas... She knew she'd made the right choice by ending that relationship. She knew that in the long run, she couldn't have lived the rest of her life without even finding out what her life with House would have been like.

It might be horrible. It might be full of conflict, might be a nightmare... But she had to _know. _It's better to regret doing something than to regret _not _doing it.

But still... Life with Lucas may have bored her and the prospect of retiring early and moving to Florida may have made her want to run a thousand miles in the opposite direction, but...it would have been nice. Rachel would have had a father figure who was _normal, _and Cuddy would have had someone to depend on.

She wasn't sure if she could depend on House in the way she might need to.

It took them another ten minutes of bickering to pull up outside her house, and another ten to get inside. (The Rachel/House/Cuddy logistics problem was still very much there.)

As soon as they crossed the threshold and entered the house, House said : "what do you need me to do?"

And then there was an unfamiliar glimmer of hope that everything might be okay. Cuddy was touched by his sympathy. "I need you to put Rachel in her cot," she replied slowly, still amazed and in shock that he actually asked how he could help.

But, typically, she noticed the look he gave to the half asleep baby currently on his shoulder. Apparently, that was not something he'd hoped her to answer with. "Uh..." He wavered.

"House," Cuddy said, in a voice she wouldn't normally use that sounded a lot like begging, "please?"

He could see the weariness, the pain and the vulnerability displayed in her eyes, so he nodded. "Okay," he said softly, hoisting Rachel up into a more comfortable position on his shoulder for carrying. He took a few cane-less steps - his was resting against the chair - before turning to look back at Cuddy. "Go," he said quietly, gesturing to the bedroom with his head.

She frowned. "Go where?"

"Bed," he answered, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Oh." Yes, bed. Rest, medication, and glorious glorious sleep... "Yes," she said dreamily. "Bed."

House just had to listen to her monosyllabic answers to know that if her body didn't hit a mattress soon she was going to collapse. "I'll be in in a minute," he told her, before limp sprinting down to the nursery.

He burst in through the door, preparing just to throw - well, not throw, but put down quickly - the kid in the cot, but instead he found himself captivated by the room.

The last time he'd been in here was about a year and a half ago, when he'd been inconvenienced by Cuddy because he'd inconvenienced her to start with. He smiled weakly at that memory. It was just so them to do that, to fight and bicker until neither of them could even remember what the original fight was about.

He didn't want that to change.

House was change averse, he despised change. It hit him suddenly. He was going to be doing the boss. He was going to be _dating _the boss... He hadn't even thought about how this was going to affect work.

Then again, if there was no change then he wouldn't be standing here right now, in this moment, with these people.

One day, one room.

He put Rachel down, easing her onto the mattress so as not to wake her. The last thing he needed was a crying baby, again.

Fortunately, she went down without even the hint of a fight, just twisted and snuffled until she was comfortable. To be fair, it had been a long day for her too.

House limped back down the hallway, closing the door quietly behind him then making his way into Cuddy's bedroom.

Oh Lord. Cuddy's bedroom.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he opened the door.

And the sight he was met with softened his gaze. She was sleeping on her back, arm still in the awkward sling, with her head turned to the side. She looked peaceful and content, but also...there. She was there, he was there... And he was pretty freaking tired.

So he carefully picked his way across the room and lay down, careful again not to touch her, wake her. But instead, as soon as the weight of his body lowered the mattress, she shuffled over, half asleep and placed her head on his chest, as if it was second nature.

He smiled. He could get used to this.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Well, here we are, at the end of the road... :( Yes, this is the final chapter. When I started this I wasn't sure how long it would go on for - I never really have any clue - but last chapter was very fluffy... And I don't usually write House/Cuddy fluff. So the fluffiness was I'm sure my muse telling me that this was nearing it's close.

I thought I'd wrap it up before I work on anything else so my mind is clear. It's a bit hectic atm, what with House Rules having just gone up and two ideas being penned (shameless self pimping, why not check it out if you liked this? :P)

Anyway, here is the end. So, how about one last review for old times sake? I have an idea, why doesn't everyone who has this on Alert or Favourite review? Then it'd be mammoth success... Or not. :P Kidding!

**BIG BIG BIG **Thank you to everyone who took the time to review, especially those who reviewed every chapter. I'm glad you've enjoyed it, hopefully as much as I've enjoyed writing it! :D XXX

Btw, I know this is quite short... But think of it as sort of an epilogue. They're usually shorter...right? xx

* * *

Blinking her eyes open, Cuddy slowly became aware of the world again. Sight, check. She could see the sun coming through the curtains. Hearing, check, she could hear her own breathing. Smell... ugh. She kind of wished that her sense of smell wasn't quite awake yet, as she smelled _disgusting. _She hadn't showered in like...two days? And that was just gross.

Breathing in deeply and wrinkling her nose at the odour, she frowned, catching the whiff of another person in the mix. It was partly the same as her, sweat and grit and dust (delightful), but...there was something else. Something distinctly _manly. _

She turned her head to the side and saw House sleeping there, his eyes closed and breathing evenly, indicating peaceful sleep. Back up... House was in her bed? Looking like...well, like he did. He was dusted a shade of grey and had pieces of rubble stuck in his hair. Cuddy had a though and reached up her own hand, only to scrub out the same cursory shower of tiny rocks.

So back to the big elephant in the room. House, and her, in bed. She assumed that they hadn't _done _anything - due to the fully clothed-ness and her deeply unattractive sling. Dear God, was the clompy velcro made for a 300lb man?

Then, in a rush of memory, it all came flooding back to her. The collapse, the ambulance, the hospital, Lucas... and House and her professing their love for each other. She felt her heart rate slow as it all sunk in a bit more. She remembered screaming to herself underground and promising to tell him how she felt. As she looked on proudly, she felt empowered. She _never _broke her promises. Well, rarely.

Laying her throbbing skull on her soft pillow, she marvelled at the wonders of morphine. Her memory of the last few days was hazy and clouded, and if she didn't have House asleep next to her as proof she would have just thought that everything had been a dream.

In fact, she couldn't remember House coming to bed with her. She remembered the drive home (stress at it's best) and getting Rachel in... But not House falling asleep beside her. Or, judging by the loose rocks on his t-shirt, her falling asleep on him. Watching him closely, she gleaned that he was a deep sleeper - well, her two minutes of observation and a life time of ignored middle of the night and nap time pages. So, very gently, she laid her head back on his broad chest.

She could hear his heartbeat in her ears and feel his chest moving up and down with respiration and she felt her drift shut. She knew that as soon as he woke up he would revert back to his normal persona and be all sarcastic and rude and what have you, so she especially savoured this rare moment of pure, unadulterated peace.

That was, of course, disrupted after less than sixty seconds.

House opened one eye. "Your hair is tickling my nose."

Cuddy squeezed her eyes shut even tighter than before. All she wanted was five minutes to pretend that hadn't just got involved with the most screwed up person in the world. _Five minutes. _Was that too much to ask?

"And are you breathing or is a steam train puffing? 'Cause I can't tell the difference," he groaned, swatting her head of his chest gently.

"Good morning to you too," she replied, head still buried in his chest, despite his whining.

"I'd be more okay with this arrangement if it was reversed," House said obnoxiously, though obviously. She wondered how long it would take him to say something - anything - about her breasts. This must be about three minutes into the day. Oh goody.

"House," she murmured, "I'm hungry."

"So am I," he replied, showing no signs of getting up.

"Please?" She asked wearily, not even joking. She was exhausted, hadn't taken any pain medication, and was utterly _starving. _"House, this is one of the few times where I'm actually going to need you to be a grown up for me."

House opened his mouth to reply with a childish "I'm never going be a grown up" remark, but decided against it. He knew that she took a big risk for him by leaving Lucas, and he knew that if he wanted this to work out - which he most certainly did - he'd have to give a little to get a little.

Still, being House, he tried giving it one more shot. "My leg hurts."

"_I _hurt," Cuddy countered, "I want the blueberry muffin from the breadbin."

"Yes mistress," he answered grumpily, not seeing the smile she was giving his back when he went off to get it.

He returned quickly with preferred breakfast at hand, along with some food for himself, and practically threw it at her. "Eat, woman," he commanded, "then we can talk."

She raised an eyebrow. "We're talking n - "

"Shh!" He interrupted, holding his hand up. "Food first, then words."

She knitted her eyebrows, not sure what he meant. Then she reminded herself that this was House and if she was actually going to make a go of this properly she was going to have to get used to his oddities. Cautiously, she took a bite of her muffin. As soon as the starchy mix hit her mouth, she realised that she didn't want to eat this. She did vaguely remember someone saying to stay off solids for a few days - something that evidently forgotten.

She turned to him. "Want to eat my muffin, honey?" She smirked.

House smiled at her. "Right now? I wouldn't have thought you'd be up to it, but I'm game if you are..." He slid his hand up her thigh, deliberately misunderstanding and referring to a different "muffin".

She gave him a reproachful look...and shoved the muffin into his open mouth. "Shut up," she told him, and for once, he had to.

Cuddy watched on as he struggled to free himself from her evilly inflicted muffin torture. If this was how their relationship was after five minutes, could they last five _hours? _Let alone a month, or more. Not that she didn't enjoy it... But she wasn't sure how it would last.

Only time would tell, she accepted, settling along for the ride.

.

_One Year Later._

House and Cuddy hurriedly jumped off his motorbike together, surveying the damage. They'd all been called out, a skyscraper-in-progress had collapsed over during the construction, causing chaos and all types of unbridled destruction.

"Reminds me of something..." House shouted to her, his hands resting protectively on her hips. Somehow, magically, miraculously, they had managed to be together for a whole year. It had been accompanied with many fights, many shouting matches, tricks, inappropriate physical relations in inappropriate public places and a whole multitude of things that Cuddy hadn't imagined herself ever to be doing.

"Me too!" She shouted back, pulling away, desperate to get in there and help people. She knew that this time it was important for them to check all the nooks and crannies for trapped people. She'd been lucky last time that there were people around. She heard about a woman called Hannah, or Anna, or something, who'd been trapped in a completely out of the way location and hadn't made it. She didn't want that to happen to anyone else.

"I'm going over there!" She yelled to him.

"Be careful!" He replied. Cuddy had been amazed that while he'd been the same old jerk mostly, he was oddly protective of her. And, safe to say, she liked it.

"I will," she smiled, kissing him hurriedly before sprinting off to assist with the emergency care.

House turned and hobbled off, ready to find some place to sit quietly in until Cuddy came a lookin'. Just because she _thought _he was assisting with the chaos didn't mean he was, or anything. She knew him well enough for that.

He barely been sitting for fifteen minutes when Cuddy ran over. "I need your cane," she panted, holding her outstretched palm out.

"Why?" He inquired, clutching it tighter.

"Because I'm going to use it to go and dig out a tunnel," she explained, tripping over her words and mangling her english.

"Careful," he warned, handing it over.

"Yeah," she murmured, not paying attention.

He watched her nimbly clamber up the mangled rock and slip in through a minute hole in it. He felt his chest tighten. Not once in the past year had she ended up in a potentially deathly situation, so House had forgotten this feeling, the one where - not for lack of trying - his heart beat a hundred times faster until he saw her or held her again.

It just goes to show that -

**CRASH! **

House was jolted from his thoughts by an almighty boom that came from somewhere up ahead. He glanced up fearfully, then saw that then abstract rock face was no longer there, just a cloud of swirling dust.

"She's trapped under there!"

"There's two people down there!"

"We need to get them out!"

"We need eyes down there!"

Choruses of words that were all too familiar to House rang through the air, alerting him and enlightening him to what was really happening.

_Oh great, _he thought, _here we go again..._


End file.
